


Coffee Shop Listening

by flickerthenflare



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 18:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9337136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flickerthenflare/pseuds/flickerthenflare
Summary: Kurt and Mercedes take an interest in the live music at a coffee shop, although Kurt is most interested in the musician.Written for the To Daydream Believers Weekly Challenge - Coffee Shop AU.





	

Kurt inhales. It’s heavenly. Coffee grounds and sweetness – two of his favorites. With Mercedes on his arm and nothing more pressing than dream-casting a more diverse _Golden Girls_ reboot over mochas, the promise of a good afternoon is before them.

He doesn’t immediately notice the music. Like every other coffee shop Kurt knows, the Lima Bean pipes a mellow playlist throughout their sound system, but what Kurt hears doesn’t come from the speakers. He glances around. A keyboard stands in a corner of the shop for the first time that Kurt can recall, and at the keyboard a teenage boy plays.

If the youthfulness in his face weren’t evidence enough, his stance as a teenager is cemented by the prep school uniform, which adds to the intrigue. He’s the kind of boy that teenage daydreams can be projected on: good looking but approachable, unknown but familiar somehow. He has talent, focus, and work ethic given this is how he chooses to spend an afternoon. It’s all so dreamy. But best of all are the faces he makes as he plays. Nothing outrageous, just little reactions to the music. He pouts at a tricky passage even as he gets it right. He gets a gleam in his eye at another. His excitement rises with the crescendo. His brow furrows as he turns the page.

A handsome face is one thing, Kurt could grow tired of that after committing it to memory, but a handsome face contorting into a thousand charming expressions while no one else watches? That’s a thousand new ways to enjoy.

The boy can’t know anyone is watching. He’s supposed to fade into the background, pleasant and unobtrusive. The music is supposed to play, and no one is supposed to think about where it comes from. Those faces are just for the boy, the music, and Kurt.

“Kurt. Kurt. Earth to Kurt.” Mercedes taps the table in front of him until he pulls his gaze away.

Kurt has the good sense to look sheepish. “He’s so into it. It’s adorable.” It’s the only excuse he has.

“ _You’re_ so into him. It’s adorable. It’s also making this conversation very one-sided.”

“Look. Not just at him. Look at what he’s doing.” Another goofy look graces that handsome face, overexcited at classical music from his own hands.

“You have to _stop_ first. Both of us gawking at him is going to cause a scene.”

Kurt forces his gaze down to the coffee warming his hands. His heart flutters. His face heats. Nothing will happen with this boy he doesn’t know, but it’s such a lovely thought that those goofy faces could be for him instead.

“Okay, that’s cute,” Mercedes concedes. “I forgive your initial distraction.”

“Keep forgiving me? I think I’m going to keep being distracted.” He might as well admit that now. All he wants to do is stare. Joy like that boy’s for his music is rare. It should be savored.

“You want me to pretend to have a conversation with you so you can keep staring at a stranger just because he’s nice to look at?”

“Are you offering?”

Mercedes shakes her head like she’s looking at Kurt and seeing something tragic. “Babe, no. Not a serious offer.”

“That’s borderline pathetic, huh?”

“Past the border. Way past. Thank the universe for putting a pretty boy in your path and then either make a move or move on,” Mercedes says like she has any more experience with boys than him to draw from. “Now, back to our plans to put more culture into pop culture…”

Kurt pouts. And then looks back at the boy. Kurt wouldn’t be so tempted if he weren’t so fascinating to watch. They’re close enough that all Kurt needs is a sideways glance to have a perfect view. Only a few tables stand between them. Kurt doesn’t usually get to indulge – there are too few options that fall under both “cute” and “non-threatening” even before factoring in “not aggressively heterosexual” – so when he indulges, he goes all out.

“Fine, _fine,_ ” Mercedes says indulgently. “I guess we’re dreamcasting your love life instead. What is it about this particular guy that’s so distracting? Gossip at me.” ~~~~

“Do you think he does that when he’s not playing?”

“Make faces?” Mercedes makes a scrunched one of her own.

“Show what he’s feeling.” It sounds pathetic even to himself that that’s what he wants, that’s the big draw. Kurt wants to be wanted, and he wants it to be clear. He wants to be on the receiving end of every open look of amusement and adoration currently favored on classical sheet music.

Mercedes given him another pitying look.

“I want to know what he’s like.” Kurt says. “I want to know how much of this is seeing someone as how they are versus making up who they are in my head.” All Kurt has now is wondering. Is his heart on his sleeve? Is he one of those rare creatures as intense as Kurt? Is he as dreamy as he seems? Kurt wants to know. He wants to find out for himself.

Move on or make a move – that’s what Mercedes said. If he wants to know more about the boy, there’s only one way to make it happen. Until then, all he has is a daydream that may or may not be true.

Kurt nurses his drink until the last sips grow cold. They’ll have no reason to run into each other again after this. With the last dregs gone, Kurt is out of excuses to linger any longer, and Mercedes catches on to his dawdling anyway. They gather their things to leave.

Kurt hazards one more look, which is how he notices the boy craning his neck after him. For the first time it seems like he wants to be seen. He locks eyes with Kurt and nods him over.

Kurt looks behind him.

“That’s absolutely for you.” Mercedes gives him a push forward.

With Mercedes’ encouragement, Kurt closes those last few feet between them.

The boy looks up from the keyboard and grins like he swallowed the sun. “Hi.”

“Yes? Hi. Um.” Kurt tries his hardest not to be a nervous wreck. He feels guilty for staring, and hopeful, and an impending sense of more embarrassment to come.

“Turn the page for me?” It sounds like an invitation for more. His voice is husky and low. Kurt likes it very much.

Kurt looks between the notes and fingers moving gracefully over keys to get the timing right.

“I…” The boy’s focus shifts to the keys. “Playing and talking is… hold on…” his brow wrinkles. Beautiful music still pours out of keyboard as he studies his music intently.

“You can have a seat,” he says after another few moments of Kurt hovering by his side waiting to see what he’ll say.

Kurt perches on the edge of the bench with his back as straight as a board. He’s so close. Boys don’t usually let him this close. He smells good. Not like anything in particular, just good. His reach for the higher keys have him right against Kurt.

How many page turns did he just sign himself up for? It’s a joyous, intimidating thought. Mercedes and Kurt have a whole wordless conversation about whether she should stay or go. She points out the door and waves goodbye. He makes a one-fingered plea for waiting a moment. She protests. He pouts. She sits back down with her empty cup she was about to toss and feigns an exaggerated sip, followed by a gesture that says she’ll appease him, for now.

“I’m Blaine,” he murmurs so their conversation isn’t any more intrusive than the ambiance he creates. For a moment he looks away from the music and the keys.

“Kurt.”

“Always nice to meet a fan.” Blaine winks.

Kurt’s eyes widen. “How well does sound carry in here?”

“Well enough,” Mercedes responds from their table around another fake sip of coffee. And yes, there are other voices to compete with, but Kurt can make out her normal volume without straining. He doesn’t have to try at all.

Oh, Kurt is never going to live this down.

Kurt turns another page for Blaine. He tells himself he should go. Don’t overstay. Keep a little mystery. Blaine already heard too much. Mercedes waits and it’s only the promise of amazing gossip that makes them both okay with his otherwise rude choice.

“So. Since you’re a fan. Is there a non-skeevy way I can ask you to leave your number in the tip jar?” Blaine’s nose wrinkles. Kurt swoons.

“I think so!” Kurt says quickly. This could be Kurt’s best mistake yet.

Blaine laughs at how Kurt waits to be asked again. “It’d be nice to talk when I can actually talk back.” Blaine ducks his head. Kurt suspects the glances back at his music are as much a chance to build courage as to read ahead.

Kurt has a pen but no paper. He nods toward Blaine’s sheet music. “How partial are you to your music?”

“I love it,” Blaine says with complete earnestness. “Go ahead and make me like it even more.”

Kurt writes his name and probably too many ways to reach him in the corner, but he wants to be thorough. It’s too soon to leave a heart, so he draws a smiley face instead. One day, hopefully on a date where they can reminisce about this wonderful chance meeting, he’ll tell Blaine directly why it seemed perfect instead of just letting him overhear.


End file.
